


The Silent Slave

by The_Crystal_Rose



Category: Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst, Completed, Dubious con, M/M, One-Shot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence, trigger scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 13:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Crystal_Rose/pseuds/The_Crystal_Rose
Summary: When it came, it whizzed through the air with a sharp crack, and the pain was instant, but Vegeta didn't make a sound. He refused to give them the satisfaction. He would endure this silently.Warnings for explicit content and triggering scenes.





	The Silent Slave

This wasn’t where he wanted to be…

He was young, but he knew exactly why he was sent here. Having arrived only four days ago, he had learned quickly of his purpose on this blasted vessel. He didn’t believe the tell-tale he was fed as he was being handed to a strange man in uniform. This wasn’t a place to help mold him into the prince his people expected. This place was hell, of that he was sure. People here didn’t bow to him, didn’t treat him like the nobility he was. Those who used his title used it in a mocking gesture. He was horrified at the manners of the soldiers of the ship. They acted like nothing of the elites he was used to seeing at home.

They underestimated him, thinking his young age inhibited his intelligence. But they were wrong. He was a fast learner, a silent observer, his studies not going to waste.

But he was arrogant, too, and that became a quickly known weakness of his.

He stood at the end of a large dais; the surrounding walls were dark with but a few lone torches flickering here and there. The shadows they casted were long and ominous, but he stood with his back straight and his eyes forward. Already the fourth day on this ship and he hated the place. He longed for walls that were as red as blood, columns as golden as the sun, and a bed that didn’t poke into his back when he slept. He secretly missed the red hue of the sky and how it always seemed to be on fire at sunset. He even missed his annoying tutor who always berated him for any wrong answer he gave.

But he didn’t miss his father.

He blamed him for sending him to this gods-forsaken place.

It seemed like he had been standing there for hours, staring at an empty throne that looked to be made up of bones but appeared to be iron. Vegeta wanted to shift his weight, but he had quickly learned the first day he was here that any movement that wasn’t necessary was punishable. So he snuffed the urge and stared straight ahead.

He also noticed that neither Nappa nor Radditz were with him. He frowned. It was unusual for his protectors to be absent, but he thought nothing of it. He continued to stand there, observing the empty room and his eyes narrowed.

The place smelled strange too.

The odor that seemed to linger in the air tickled Vegeta’s senses and he had to fight the urge to sneeze. It was a strange type of scent and he couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but he didn’t have long to dwell on it. The large doors to his right swung open, the squeal they made caused his sensitive ears to ache. The _slap slap_ of bare feet made their way towards him, but he didn’t dare turn his head. Soon, the strange odor intensified with the closeness of the new comer and finally they stood in Vegeta’s line of sight, blocking his view of the throne.

It was that bastard of a lizard again.

Frieza stood on the bottom step of the dais, his lips curled into a smug smirk as he gazed upon the young Saiya-jin prince. His leer spoke volumes to Vegeta and he tensed. That _I-know-something-you-don’t_ expression made him angry, and he automatically wanted to wipe it off his face, but he had learned from the first day on this ship his princely title meant nothing.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, little monkey,” Frieza said insincerely. “I had… other matters that needed to be dealt with before I saw to you.”

His smirk grew at that and Vegeta’s brow furrowed. With that, Frieza turned on his heel with the grace of a leader and approached the throne, before delicately sitting himself in it, his large tail curling to the side to accommodate him. He glanced at a number of men that stood to the side of him, his look sending shivers down Vegeta’s spine, before he turned his attention back to the prince.

“Do you know why you are here, _Prince_?” Frieza purred.

Swallowing, Vegeta raised his chin to answer, “No, sir.”

Nodding, the lizard began to drum his feminine fingers against the arm rest of his throne. It was fortunate for him that the prince was clueless to his required presence. In the few days that the young Saiya-jin had been in his custody, Frieza had learned that the monkey prince was cleverer than the average lot he was supposedly destined to rule over. With a cruel smirk, Frieza relished the idea of bringing that dream to death in a matter of minutes.

Unbeknownst to the prince, the planet they were currently orbiting was burning, the very red hue of its atmosphere blazing bright with flames and rubble as it broke apart piece by piece. The screams of the habitants fell on deaf ears as they suffocated from smoke, their flesh burning from the heat of the fire, their bones broken, their bodies mangled and eventually turning to dust with their planet. Frieza had stood by a large bay window overlooking the scene with satisfaction at the destruction he had caused.

And it was only the beginning.

Frieza knew Vegeta would not take the news well and he anticipated some kind of outburst from the already rambunctious brat. But he had a plan to reign in his new pet. The innocence that the young prince still carried would be tarnished and eventually wiped from existence before the night was over.

“We have had an unfortunate… occurrence take place today,” Frieza began as he drummed his fingers against the arm rest of his throne. “I regret to inform you, young Prince, that your planet has been destroyed.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but to flinch in surprise at the news. His muscles tightened, his eyes were wider than saucers and his fists were clenched so tight that his finger nails dug open the skin of his palm, fresh blood oozing from the wound.

And then, he relaxed. He had learned firsthand on this ship not to trust anyone, especially the tyrant that sat before him. How could he really believe him?

So, arrogantly, Vegeta replied, “I do not believe you!” He faltered when Frieza sat there calmly, a single femininely plucked brow cocked with amusement before he lifted his hand in a gesture and soon, the entire wall beside them began to move to reveal a large window.

“See for yourself, then,” was all he said.

Hesitantly, Vegeta approached the thick glass and felt his breath leave him at what he saw. His planet was below them, its large, beautiful red hue glowing ominously with fire. The planet itself was beginning to break apart bit by bit and with it, the last of Vegeta’s sanity. His people were burning, suffocating, suffering and he was powerless to stop the destruction that had taken place. He was their prince, destined to rule them, to protect them, and he stood miles above his planet, watching as it ceased to exist.

He was numb.

“My… my father…” Vegeta began to question, only to trail off when a wave of nausea hit him.

“He is dead,” Frieza spoke without compassion. “We had sent a pod to your planet in an attempt to rescue as many as we can, but I am afraid our efforts were futile,” he lied. It was true they sent a pod, but not for rescuing. He needed leverage if he was to mold the prince into his best fighter, his right hand man. “We were only able to bring back three.”

Fighting off the nausea, Vegeta turned to see the double doors open and the three survivors being escorted into the hall. He swallowed heavily and left the wall of glass to approach the last of his people, attempting to act every part of the prince he was meant to be, but it was harder than he imagined.

There were two men and one young woman out of the three survivors, each looking equally as wounded and exhausted as the next. Their hands were bound and collars were around their necks, which left Vegeta both confused and outraged. If they were survivors, there was no need for such restrictions.

“Why are they bound?” Vegeta asked as he stood before them.

Frieza sighed. “One must take every precaution necessary,” was the excuse he came up with. “They were distraught when my crew retrieved them, and the young woman attacked one of my commanding officers without provocation. I felt they needed the binds.”

The young woman’s eyes widened. That wasn’t how it was at all. She had been dragged from her burning family brutally and tossed onto the ground like a piece of trash with her arms and hands fastened behind her back. Sure, she snarled and fought back, but only because they were so rough and she could’ve sworn one of them cracked a joke about the smell of burning Saiya-jin flesh still didn’t mask their stench. But because of the collar, her speech was hindered. She didn’t want to feel the shocks of screaming in protest like she had aboard the retrievement ship.

Having enough of seeing them, Vegeta nearly snarled, “Take them off!”

“Now, now, Vegeta, you know I can’t do that.”

He blanched. “Why not?!”

Frieza smirked. “I believe now is the perfect time for your first lesson, prince,” he stood from the harsh looking throne and descended the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, he tilted his head to the men standing behind the survivors and they pushed the Saiya-jin’s to their knees, one of the men protesting from the amount of pressure that was put on the wound that had surfaced on his knee during the explosions. His protests went ignored.

“While you are under my command, Vegeta, you are going to have to learn that sacrifices must be made for the greater good,” Frieza began to lecture as he circled the young prince. “It’s a shame that your planet is gone, but all-in-all it is for the best. Attachments are a weakness that a warrior cannot carry. Emotions, _feelings_ that are exposed in battle can bring even the mightiest of fighters to their death.” He stopped his circling and stood between Vegeta and the three bound Saiya-jin’s. “Your lesson is to cleanse yourself of your attachments,” he finished, his eyes set and cold.

Vegeta nearly chocked. His eyes were wide and he looked from the wounded survivors then back to Frieza. Was this the reason why they risked going to the Vegeta-sei? This was ludicrous. He turned his shocked gaze back to the last of his people, each one of their eyes were wide, but not nearly as wide as his. Had they anticipated this?

Angry, Vegeta lifted his chin and returned his now defiant eyes back to Frieza.

“No.”

Frieza cocked a brow. “No?”

“I refuse,” he spat in a challenge. “I will not be your lapdog to which you can call upon whenever you wish to do your dirty work. I am a prince and it is my duty to rule, not obey!”

“Hmm,” the lizard hummed. Without saying anything else, Frieza turned from him and ordered, “Bring in the tray.” In a single moment, a soldier left the room, only to return seconds later with a long silver platter that was sat on a table with wheels. He approached Frieza with the table, before bowing quickly and returning to his post.

From where he was standing, Vegeta could make out various tools, a neck collar that appeared different than the ones the surviving Saiya-jin’s wore, a syringe filled with some sort of substance, and cuffs. The tools that sat at the opposite end of the tray looked like torture devices, some sharp and long, some pronged and narrow, and others were just completely foreign looking that describing them would give him a headache. He watched Frieza closely as he the tyrant approached the tray and lift one of the sharp tools into his grasp, examining it this way and that with a bored look.

“Another part of this lesson, unfortunately, is that actions have consequences, Vegeta. Everyone must pay them accordingly,” he murmured as he tossed Vegeta a look over his shoulder. “Strip,” he ordered.

Vegeta’s jaw locked. “And if I don’t?”

“You will be made too.”

Glancing at the many soldiers in the room, and then to his fellow Saiya-jins on their knees, Vegeta weighed his options. He refused to allow another’s hands on his body and having to be forced to strip in front of his subjects wounded his pride. But he would rather it be done on his own accord. So without another word, Vegeta lifted his hands and began to remove his armor.

Once the last piece fell to the floor, he stepped out of the pile. Frieza watched, a twinkle of something Vegeta didn’t want to know about was in his eyes. As soon as he was finished, Frieza lifted the collar from the table and before the young prince knew, the contraption was around his neck. Immediately he felt heavier, his knees nearly buckling under pressure, but after a few seconds, he righted himself. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling.

He felt powerless… vulnerable…

His hands tore at the collar in an attempt to rid himself of it, but the metal never gave way. Immediately afterwards, his hands were grasped and bounded with cuffs around a large column that had appeared in the middle of the hall from the floor. A chain linked one of his wrists to the other around the column so tightly movement wasn’t an option for him. At this point, his breathing had sped up and he turned his head to watch what Frieza was doing.

He still stood at the table, his gaze running over each tool observantly. Finally, Frieza turned away from the table altogether, his large tail thumping against the ground. The movement seemed to be significant and the look in the lizard’s eyes gleamed appreciatively.

“Yes, this will do,” he said as he approached Vegeta. “Make sure they watch,” he spoke to his men and they gripped the backs of the survivor’s heads to keep them staring forward. “This would’ve been better had you not resisted, Vegeta, but it will make your lesson all the more sweet. Punishment is a key to a warrior’s development, yet you seem to forget that on my ship, you are no longer a prince. You serve me, you obey me, I am your lord and master. Defiance is not tolerated here, little monkey.”

The look in Frieza’s eye determined that this would not be pleasant. Vegeta knew Frieza wanted to see him in pain, to hear him suffer, to embarrass him in front of his subjects and break him down, but he would not break down so easily. Resting his forehead against the column, Vegeta stared straight into the black marble, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted and pulling against the chains, awaiting the first blow.

When it came, it whizzed through the air with a sharp crack, and the pain was instant, but Vegeta didn’t make a sound. He refused to give them the satisfaction. He would endure this silently. The second whip was also sudden and landed the opposite way from the first. The pain was searing, his back began to burn as the sharp end of Frieza’s tail met his skin. Vegeta bit on the inside of his cheek to keep any sound from escaping, but he couldn’t control his labored breathing. It was fast and painful with each strike of the tail and he wanted to close his eyes and give into the pain. But he kept them opened; only wincing every now and then as each blow came unexpectedly.

Vegeta couldn’t bring himself to look at his surviving subjects, but he could hear strangled sounds of protest along with moans of pain. It felt like hours when the whipping let up. Vegeta could feel fresh blood oozing down his back, arms, and legs. The deeply open cuts gushed and he felt light headed. His eyes grew heavy with dizziness and exhaustion, and his weight was currently being supported by the large black column. He felt a smack on his cheek and he blinked rapidly to stay focused.

When his eyes strayed to the three Saiya-jins, his foggy vision sharpened into focus. One of the men was laid out on the floor on his stomach, his eyes unblinking and his mouth hanging open in what looked like a silent scream. He was unmoving, silent, and Vegeta knew he was dead. Frieza stood next to him, his gaze also on the lifeless Saiya-jin and he shook his head with disappointment.

“That’s one less you have to kill, I guess. He should’ve known better than to try and talk,” the tyrant shrugged. With that, Frieza approached the table and pointed to the syringe. The man standing closest to him nodded and lifted the syringe from the platter, before approaching Vegeta and inserting the needle into the bottom portion of his back. The pain was so intense Vegeta didn’t even feel the needle dig into his skin.

Then, his face was seized in the man’s hands, his eyes forced open as Frieza gripped the other mans neck and lifted him. “I can’t allow you to have attachments, Vegeta,” Frieza exclaimed before he began to squeeze the man’s neck from just above the collar. It didn’t take long, but the blood and crunch of bones was enough to unsettle even the toughest of stomachs. Frieza continued to squeeze until the man’s head popped clean off and roll onto the floor. The woman turned and vomited uncontrollably.

As Frieza turned to the woman retching, Vegeta could no longer fight the coming darkness that pulled at him temptingly. The hands that held his eyes open let loose and the prince slumped against the column. Whatever they injected into him set his veins on fire. The intensity of the pain in his back was amplified and it took all of his will power not to give into the pain.

Just before he lost consciousness, Vegeta turned his head to see Frieza hovering over the woman’s form; her legs were spread and held down with Frieza kneeling in between them. He was thrusting harshly and fast, his face contorted in what looked like ecstasy and the woman’s face was scrunched up and twisted in pain, her eyes on her prince pleadingly. Her bare body was bloody and bruised, and the remains of her clothing tattered and torn at her sides. Frieza’s hands roamed hungrily as he continued to thrust. Then, his tail lifted and as the blackness crept in on Vegeta, Frieza brought his tail down on the woman’s head hard, crushing her skull like a melon.

Vegeta lost himself to the blackness, to the fire in his veins. He was burning from the inside out; even in his unconsciousness he couldn’t escape it.

As his people burned below, their prince burned with them silently.

_oOo_

 .

.

  _The End_


End file.
